


Last Friday Night

by Coconutice22



Series: TFW Cannot Be Trusted [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Not Beta Read, Object Insertion, major object insertion, team free will are basically frat boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 23:16:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11839059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coconutice22/pseuds/Coconutice22
Summary: Crowley was promised a movie night for helping Sam, Dean and Castiel out of a somewhat sticky situation earlier in the week.Now he's at the bunker, copy ofDirty Dancingin hand.Just a little ficlet of the guys chilling and enjoying themselves.





	1. If It Fits, Cas Sits

**Author's Note:**

> You don't have to of read Part 1 in the series to understand this. In fact, I'd suggest it helps if you haven't read Part 1.

Previously on TFW Cannot Be Trusted: 

_Sam sighed. “You can come to our next movie night. Dean will make you popcorn.”_

_Crowley sat up straighter slightly with interest. “Two bowls of popcorn.”_

_For king of hell, his negotiation skills weren't up to much, Castiel thought. “Sure, two bowls.”_

“ _And I can pick the movie?”_

“ _Anything except for_ Princess Bride _!”_

“ _Mmmmphmmmmummph!” Dean mumbled._

“ _And Dean says no_ Bridges of Madison County _,” Castiel translated._

“ _I don't get why you hate that film so much Dean, it's a classic,” Sam added._

“ _Deal,” Crowley grinned. “We're going to watch_ Dirty Dancing _ _.”__

–

One Friday night after not long after... 

 

“So fucking glad that’s finished,” Dean groaned.

“You have no appreciation for the classics,” Crowley huffed.

“ _Boring_.”

“You can hardly consider this a classic considering your age, Crowley.” Castiel argued, rolling his eyes.

“Cinema wasn’t invented until relatively recently, I grant you that. I still consider this a classic. It takes difficult topics and–”

“Adds a whole lot of dance no one needs. What’s wrong with them showing their love with words? Or fighting. No one needs dance.”

Sam was snoring from his position on the end of the couch so he couldn’t chip in. Dean was taking it as a sign that Sam was equally bored of the dancing – though more logically it could be he was tired from their constant hunting that week. Not to mention the little incident at Rowena’s that had led them to needing Crowley’s help and Crowley’s subsequent invitation to movie night.

The four well-grown men were all squashed up next to each other on the bunker’s ratty couch in front of their ratty TV. They could have gone anywhere in the world to relax. Crowley could have whipped up any manner of comfort, but this felt like home. This right here. Team Free Will kicking back with a cooler of beer, munching on Dean’s secret recipe popcorn, watching a movie.

“What now?” Crowley asked. “Do you paint each others’ nails and tell secrets? Tell me what else happens on your highly lorded movie nights.”

“We go to bed.” Dean indicated to himself and the still sleeping Sam. “Movie night is officially over.”

“I go and read, and I don’t wish for company,” Castiel added drily.

“What! I saved you all from your own stupidity last week! You’ve been toying with me for months talking about these little gatherings, and now I discover all you do is watch one film, eat junk food and go to _sleep_?”

He was aghast. Dean, however, couldn’t have given less of a shit about Crowley’s feelings.

“Yup,” he popped the _p_ extra loud just to rub it in. With a groan and a click of his joints, Dean stood up to gather up their stuff from the coffee table. He aimed a kick at Sam’s shin as he walked past him to the kitchen, arms laden with empty beer bottles and bowls. The alcohol and general air of relaxation the night had come with had left Dean feeling sleepy and content with the world.

“I saved you all from yourselves and now you’re kicking me out?” Crowley raised his voice louder. “I SAVED YOU!”

The shouting more than Dean’s kick woke Sam up. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“Film over already?”

“Obviously,” Crowley hissed. “See if I ever help you again! I thought there was something else, something _magical_ the way you all talk about the evenings.”

“We were fucking with you, Crowley,” Sam added with another yawn. “Knew it would come in useful one day, and it did.”

Dean came back in and started brushing crumbs off the coffee table, scowling at a scuff mark someone’s shoe had left.

“There’s still beer in the cooler,” Crowley pointed out, grasping at straws at this point. He did not want to go home yet! He was promised something more fun than just a movie! “How about I stay until we finish the beers?”

Castiel looked into the cooler. “There’s only the beer Crowley brought left, I guess we can agree to that.” He handed bottles to the others and took one for himself.

“Cheers then, lads.” Crowley lifted up his bottle. With a grunt of annoyance the others lifted theirs up too, clinking the glass.

Little did Castiel, Sam and Dean understand, Crowley’s tastes in beer ran towards more of the demon-strength, speciality beer.

 

*******

 

Dean was only halfway through his first of Crowley’s beers when he started to twig something was up. They might have been drinking steadily for the last couple of hours, but after half this one in particular he’d gone from feeling tipsy to feeling drunk. Completely and absolutely drunk. He suddenly wasn’t sure if he could even spell his own name.

“Everybody enjoying themselves?” Crowley inquired. He placed his first empty bottle on the table and walked over to the cooler for another. “Just a few more left and then I’ll be out of your hair,” he commented, counting the few remaining bottles.

“Ex– _hiccup–_ lent.” Sam had only taken a few sips, but that had apparently gone to his head too. “This is good stuff,” he grinned, lifting the bottle in Crowley’s direction and nodding. “Never heard of this brand though.”

“Something of a home-brew, I admit.”

Crowley had wrapped his hand around the new bottle he’d just picked up and was about to twist off the cap when an old memory flashed through his mind.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” Dean had sat back down on the couch to enjoy the rest of his beer.

“Can you still, you know?” Crowley raised an eyebrow and nodded towards the beer bottle in his hand.

“What?”

“You know!” This time he wiggled his eyebrows.

“He has no idea what you are hinting towards, Crowley.” Castiel interpreted, as the most sober of the four of them.

“Your demon-days party trick. With the beer bottles.”

Crowley took the bottle and mimed placing it towards his ass.

Dean immediately blanched and put his head in his hands.

“What?” Sam caught on laughed. “You spent your time as a demon shoving beer bottles up your ass?”

“No!” Dean grumbled. “Taking the caps off, if you gotta know.” He groaned some more into his hands. “Why did you ever let me do that?”

“Let you?” Crowley huffed. “You started it! Every single time. It did get us a lot of free drinks though,” he mused.

Castiel squinted at Crowley, then Dean, and finally at the bottle of beer in his hand.

“I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Well it is. Just let it go. We have to finish up this beer and then–”

“Yeah, no, I gotta agree with Cas on this one. You two are having us on.”

Crowley smirked. Dean rolled his eyes.

Dean stood and placed his now empty bottle on the table. His hands went to his belt. He undid that and let his jeans drop.

“Beer me,” he called to Crowley, who was kind enough to throw Dean the beer he’d been holding.

Dean dried the neck of the bottle on his shirt.

“Don’t you want it wet to, er, slide better?” Sam wasn’t sure now if this _was_ a prank.

“Nah, need it dry for a better grip.” He was impressed how well-chilled the beer was still. The old cooler box had definitely seen better days, but much like Baby, never failed them.

Dean pulled his boxers down and went into a semi crouch, as if he was about to go downhill skiing. He positioned the bottle behind him in just the right spot.

A push, a squeeze, and a twist later, the bottle cap dropped to the ground and Dean had an open beer in his hand.

“Cheers!” He saluted them with the beer before taking a swig.

Sam’s jaw dropped open.

“You still got it,” Crowley laughed.

Dean let himself drop back onto the couch, his boxers and jeans still around his ankles, having given up on any sense of propriety.

“I want to try!” Sam called out. Maybe it was tiny part of him that still wanted to do whatever his big brother did.

Crowley shrugged and threw Sam an unopened bottle of beer. Sam undid his jeans and let them drop and then shimmied his underwear down too. He hissed slightly when the cold top of the beer touched his buttocks.

“So between the butt cheeks, squeeze and off?”

Dean winced. “Um… no, for a better grip, you need to, you know, shove it in a little, clench and twist. Only works with twist-off caps.”

Rather than argue, Sam did just as he was told. It wasn’t long before they heard the telltale hiss of the beer being opened. “WOOO! Beer me again, Crowley!”

“You think that’s impressive? Dean once managed two at the same time.” Crowley threw Sam a second beer.

“I did, didn’t I?” Dean looked proud of himself as he reminisced. “You know what, give me two bottles, Crowlers.”

Before long they had a table full of opened beers. Castiel had been sitting back watching, learning more about humans than many angels ever would in their lifetime just by watching this strange ass-opening competition.

Sam had finally bested Dean by managing to insert and open _three_ whole beer bottles at once. Dean was scowling and wincing slightly from his failed attempt at this feat.

“I want to try.” Castiel hadn’t even realized he’d announced this, but after even Crowley had given it a go (and eventually cheated to remove his beer cap), Cas didn’t want to feel left out.

“Ah, small problem, Feathers. We’re finally out of beer. Sorry, better luck next time.”

Castiel walked himself over to the cooler to check. Crowley was right, they did appear to be out of beer. But it didn’t matter as as Castiel suddenly had A Brilliant Idea.

“Cas?” Dean questioned as Castiel dropped his pants and kicked off his underwear.

Castiel picked up the now empty cooler and sat it on its end so that it stood upright. He hovered over the corner of the cooler and sat himself at an angle.

“What the fuck are you doing, Castiel?” Sam took a few wobbly steps closer.

“Inserting this cooler into my ass. I want to be in on the ass jokes.”

Castiel wiggled a bit. Dean rubbed at his eyes not understanding what was going on as the cooler seemed to slip further and further within Castiel.

“Angle space, angel TARDIS space,” Crowley muttered. When he’d suggested this game he’d had no way of knowing it would result in _this._

“How the fuck are you doing that?” Half the cooler was now somehow inside of Castiel. Dean was getting worried. “Isn’t that going to kill you?”

“TARDIS law apply to angel vessels. They’ve got to be larger on the inside than they appear from the outside. How else do you think they contain the mass of an angel’s true form?” Crowley further explained, feeling just as shocked as Sam and Dean. Though he understood the theory, the reality was… frightful, albeit oddly thrilling.

Castiel grunted a little and squirmed. The cooler was now compressing his lungs making it hard for him to draw breath to talk. After only a little while they were left with a cube that looked like it had been wrapped in Castiel paper, with his head, genitals, arms and legs left dangling off. The entirety of his body was otherwise stuffed with the cooler.

“I win,” Castiel whispered, as he could only take very shallow breaths.

“Dude, you fucking deserve to win.” Dean was too shocked to argue. Or to point out that it hadn’t been a game of who could fit the largest item in their ass.

“There is no beating that,” Sam agreed.

Dean’s eyes looked over to the sideboard where Baby’s keys were sitting, glinting slightly in the low-level light of the room. He completely missed Crowley explaining the beer he provided was non-alcoholic so none of them had any excuse to blame him for their stupid antics tonight. He only brewed non-alcoholic beer as no one needed drunk demons running around – he wasn’t a completely incompetent ruler of hell, after all.

_I wonder if…_ _there was is only one way to tell for sure_ , Dean thought. True form angels were pretty big… Baby was just over 200 inches… But Castiel had managed the cooler without much of a struggle...

“Cas?” Dean asked, interrupting Crowley’s explanation about the placebo effect and how they were all far too easily influenced by it.

“Yes Dean?” Castiel grunted, slowly working the cooler out of himself now he’d had his fun.

“I have an idea.”

 


	2. Nobody Puts Cooler in the Corner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, be honest – who came here for car insertion? Sorry to say this chapter covers the previous story but from cooler’s perspective, with a little more background.
> 
> I’ll leave the Baby insertion to your own mind. Or not, I can't tell you what to do dear reader. 
> 
> There were extra points for writing from the cooler's POV, so here is my cheat for that, heh.

I began my life as all coolers begin theirs: sitting in a shop, longing to be bought.

A lovely couple bought me so that they might use me for picnics and such larks. Those were the best days. Little did I know, they would soon be taken away from me.

My owners were killed at one of their favorite picnic spots. Murdered, right before my innocent self, while they were midway through eating the uncooked meats I had kept unspoiled within me. To my horror, I soon found myself belonging to a pair of brutes who stole me from the park.

So what if my previous owners had been cannibals and had been using me to store flesh? I had belonged to them, and them to me.

New owners used me mostly for storing alcohol and body fluids of all type in. They claimed they had to preserve the samples for testing, but I was never too sure.

My new life was not as glorious a life as it had been previously, but I was a good cooler. I did as I was asked and kept things cool.

Life was tolerable. That is to say, until _it_  happened. 

Imagine my world. I was innocently sitting there, keeping beer cool for these maniacs, when suddenly one of them puts me on my end and inserts me into his back passage!

The pure horror and shock of it!

And the worst part? The truly awful, awful part that I dare not even think too loudly for fear of setting off the gods?

I wish he’d do it again.

I’ve never felt as loved or as warm as I did that day. It must be what human babies feel like when they are still in the womb.

I’m disgusted with myself for how much I long to be back inside of the trench-coated one. But equally, I long, I long so hard.

Until then I shall keep my solemn vow and be a good cooler, least they be rid of me. I shall for now, and forever more, keep my cool.

**Author's Note:**

> Well... I'd blame myself for this but really I blame the Internet for discussing true-form angels this last week so much. I started to think how their vessels must be bigger on the inside than the outside. 
> 
> This is of course another beautiful entry into SPN Coldest Hits. I'm so happy to be back writing for this contest as it has brought me much pleasure. 
> 
> The challenge this month was [The Coleman Cooler Returns](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/163801208250/the-coleman-cooler-returns-spncoldesthits). Rules and full prompt at the link. 
> 
> Feel free to come say hi on Tumblr! I'm [perfackles](http://www.perfackles.tumblr.com/) for anything Supernatural related. 
> 
> Or my general fandom account [coconutice22](http://www.coconutice22.tumblr.com/).


End file.
